


You can't wake up, this is not a dream

by Publisher021



Series: Publisher021's Whumptober2019 [8]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Depressed Steve Rogers, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Steve Rogers-centric, Steve needs help, Superhusbands (Marvel), Tony Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony is not a robot okay, he's a literal angel and both steve and tony deserve the world, he's not okay and tony knows what's up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:29:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Publisher021/pseuds/Publisher021
Summary: He sometimes woke up this way; his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton and the surrounding noises sounded as if he were underwater, all muffled.He hated it, but he was strong enough to soldier through it. He'd survived a war, seen fellow comrades, men he'd looked up to, brothers in arms, die in front of his eyes. Yes, he could manage this, except, he was so exhausted.All he wanted to do was to sleep, yet it eluded him, and his mind was plagued with dreams that didn't make sense, thoughts that made him frown.Sometimes he wished he had never woken up in the first place.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Publisher021's Whumptober2019 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1508237
Kudos: 80





	You can't wake up, this is not a dream

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 30: Recovery
> 
> This one-shot for my whumptober series actually took me slightly less than two days to write. Which, for me, is pretty good seeing as I take a long time to write something depending on how excited I am about the particular direction I want to take the writing piece in. It's a bit of a process, sometimes, and other times I can't believe that I would ever take long to write something.

_Can you help me remember how to smile?_  
_Make it somehow seem all worthwhile._  
_How on earth did I get so jaded?_  
_Life's mystery seems so faded._

  
__

  
He hated it whenever he woke up and everything just seemed off. Wrong. Not wrong, that wasn't the proper word for it, just that something wasn't right in the world. It was concerning, and worrying because when he woke up, everything was fine, the room was just as they'd left it the night before. It was dark out still, not yet time for him to be up for his run with Sam, and Tony was still sound asleep next to him, seemingly unaware of his inner self-conflict.

So he went back to sleep, not straight away, because apparently, it was difficult to tell his brain that everything was alright even when his body had already caught up to that fact.

And later, he stirred awake, waking slowly to find that Tony was sitting on the edge of their bed. A look at the alarm beside him told him that it was the time he usually woke to go for a run with Sam. So he sat up in bed, trying to find the will to get out of their sleep-warm bed and watched as Tony got ready. 

Tony got up from their bed and moved to his walk-in closet, rummaging inside for a shirt that would match the suit pants that he wore. It was only as he was pulling the shirt on and buttoning up the buttons that he noticed Steve watching him.

He smiled, walking over to Steve to kiss him on the forehead. "Morning. I got a call from Pepper earlier. I have to catch a flight to Tokyo now and I'll be back in about a week's time. Maybe less if I'm good and get all the paperwork done and the deal goes through. Though we all know how much I hate paperwork, which means that I'll probably be there for the full week. Sorry if I woke you."

He worked up the courage to smile back at Tony. "Morning, Tony. And no, you didn't wake me. I usually wake up this time for my run with Sam," he said.

He climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

In less than five minutes he was dressed, and he kissed Tony goodbye, wishing him good luck for his business trip. 

He pushed a travel mug of coffee into Tony's hands and was gone.

  
__

  
His run with Sam was good, not like it usually was. And no matter how much Sam spoke, he couldn't really concentrate on anything that Sam had to say. He made sure to smile and to laugh and to make the right sounds whenever Sam looked his way for some sort of response, and it seemed to please Sam.

Sometimes, he wondered if his friends really knew him.

When he got back to the tower, his mind was pleasantly quiet, which, to him, made for a good day. He took a quick shower then started on the team's breakfast, greeting each of them with a smile as they walked in.

And when breakfast was over, he sat quietly, hands drawing soft strokes with the graphite pencil onto the pages of his sketchbook. It was a good day, but he couldn't help feel as though something was off.

His hands stopped moving on its own accord, and he looked down to see what he had drawn, perhaps seeing it properly for the first time. And maybe it was, because he certainly couldn't remember drawing Peggy's youthful face, her red lips quirked into a mischievous smile. In the background was the rest of the Howlies sitting around a campfire.

His sketchbook was closed hastily and put to one side and he stood up as if in a trance and walked away, heading back to his and Tony's floor to change into clothing that was more suitable for the gym.

__

  
At dinnertime, he was silent, only speaking when spoken to. He listened to the others' stories, laughing whenever they said something funny. At least at this hour, unlike this morning when he went out on his run with Sam his actions weren't mechanical. They were real. 

But he was still silent. 

When he was done eating he took his plate to the back and cleaned up and then walked back out to where the others were sitting and made some excuse about wanting to get some reading in before he went to bed.

They believed him and let him go with a chorus of 'goodbyes' and 'goodnights'.

He got into the elevator and the doors closed behind him, JARVIS immediately knowing where he was headed to. He closed his eyes and sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. 

He laid in bed, eyes wide awake but body protesting loudly against its inability to sleep. He tried everything, from shutting his eyes tightly against the darkness of their bedroom to counting sheep to listening to the playlist that Tony had composed for him for nights like this when he couldn't sleep.

Nothing worked.

The only solution that he'd hadn't tried yet was reading.

Two hours later, and more than three-quarters of his book done, his eyes were beginning to blur and slip shut by themselves.

He closed his book, putting it on his bedside table and laid down until his head was on the pillow.

JARVIS turned off the lights and he was asleep in less than a minute.

__

  
Three days later, he was asleep in his and Tony's bedroom, head facing out towards the balcony that overlooked the rest of the city.

He'd fallen asleep against his will, and was still lying on top of the bedcovers, hands covered by the long sleeves of one of his sleep shirts.

It was one of his old shirts, blue in colour and was only used when the nights grew colder.

Tonight, no matter the fact that he was wearing the blue sweater, was not cold. 

However, that did not mean that he didn't feel the cold settling into his bones like it had made a home inside of him. In a way, it had ever since the ice. His skin grew cold and his core temperature dropped whenever it was a bad day for him.

Which tonight was.

It was a bad night for him. The day itself wasn't the best, and the night just seemed to end on a bad note.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of what his life could be like if he wasn't forced to crash the plane into the Arctic.

It wasn't good thoughts that plagued his mind, and his hindbrain was more than a little disgusted with the thoughts that he entertained, but his heart was heavy and in the comfort of the dark he wasn't strong enough to dispel the thoughts that maybe if he'd found a way to get Howard on the line, then maybe he'd still be with the rest of his friends and family in the forties.

He could've gotten married to Peggy, maybe have had a house with a white picket fence. Maybe had a child with her and a pet.

And then he felt infinitely guilty for thinking about marrying Peggy, because he loved Tony. Tony who loved so fully, who held him whenever he had a bad day, who waited by his bedside whenever he injured himself on a mission, Tony who worked himself to the bone to ensure that the team had updated weapons and gear that would protect them on a mission.

All these thoughts flitted around his brain, making his brain go into overdrive and confuse him into thinking that he was shivering, that the cold was coming for him again.

Looking outside seemed to help him to center himself. 

Which was why the doors to their balcony were open, the curtains billowing across the bedroom.

He was jolted out of his fitful sleep when a hand brushed gently through his hair.

Even though he knew that only one person had access to the penthouse, bar himself, he still startled.

He sat up, eyes flitting around the room until they noticed Tony.

Tony smiled at him, sitting down next to him.

"Hi," Tony whispered, mouth curving up into a small smile.

Despite his earlier exhaustion and the horrible thoughts that had flicked through his mind, he managed to smile back. He was really glad that Tony was home.

"Hi, Tony. How was your flight?" he asked, moving back until his back was against the headboard.

He tugged on Tony's hand until Tony got the hint and rolled his eyes, pulling off his jacket before moving so that he was sitting next to him.

Tony turned to look at him, brown eyes glowing golden in the light of the bedside lamp. He didn't say anything for a while, eyes scrutinising every inch of him.

Then Tony tilted his head so that he could lay a kiss on his lips, humming happily when he reciprocated without hesitating.

"You taste like chocolate," Tony stated, voice soft and somewhat hoarse.

"Bruce made hot chocolate for everyone. He said that we needed a change of scene and that he was tired of everyone sipping on coffee and soda when we watched a movie. You missed out."

Tony laughed and then pouted when he realized that he had missed out on Bruce's hot chocolate.

"Ugh, that's so unfair. The flight back was way too long even with the new plane. Although I'm pretty sure we broke flight regulations with the plane's added speed. Not that they can say anything, of course. If they do, I'll just remind them of all the things that Stark Industries helps fund," Tony said with a self-satisfied smirk.

He rolled his eyes and snorted, too busy drawing patterns on Tony's forearm to reply verbally.

"But, I did manage to finish all the paperwork and Pepper seems pretty happy with me. Not that she can't be anything less than happy with me, because I'm an absolute delight. Right, honey?" Tony said with a smug look.

Right. 

He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side.

"Sure, Tony. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Tony gasped, hitting him on the shoulder and he laughed, shoulders shaking.

"I want a divorce. Lies and slander right here, under my own roof. JARVIS, did you hear that? Steve says that I'm not a delight," Tony complained loudly, holding a hand to his heart.

"I did indeed, sir, and I'm inclined to agree with Captain Rogers on this one. You're simply too much work. My servers cannot cope with all the stress," JARVIS said drily.

He laughed at the indignant face Tony pulled.

Tony pointed at the ceiling, and then at him.

"You two are conspiring against me. See if I don't sell you to a community college, JARVIS. The little rugrats won't appreciate you enough and then you'll regret ever turning against me," Tony said with a sniff.

"As you say, sir. I shall wait patiently until then. However, I do have a rather pressing question that regards you selling me to 'a community college', as you so eloquently put it; who will help you remember whenever you have a meeting with Ms. Potts? Or help you upgrade DUM-E or U or Butterfingers? I won't be able to help you from my post at a community college, sir, and as you very well know, I can't keep you out of trouble if I'm not by your side. As that seems to be the case every second day of the week, my job as your protector is thus 'a moot point', as you so often like to say," JARVIS said, sounding oddly smug and sarcastic at the same time.

Steve bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Tony didn't have a quick reply for that one, and chose to stay quiet with his mouth hanging open, face appalled at the fact that his A.I had just showed him who's more superior when it comes to sarcastic retorts.

And when Tony's appalled look fell from his face and he pouted, Steve made sure to kiss him until he struggled to hide the smile from his face.

"I missed you," he mumbled, his happy mood evaporating.

Tony turned to kiss him along his jaw. "Love you. And I missed you too. Never going on another business trip again. Pepper will have to go. And if she forces me and threatens me with her high heels I'm making you come with me," Tony said.

He couldn't help but chuckle slightly, although he wasn't as invested in the conversation as he was before.

"I love you, too," he whispered, closing his eyes as he leaned his head on Tony's shoulder.

Tony went quiet after that, and he could almost feel the way that Tony's eyes bored holes into him from how hard he was staring at him.

"Quick question, how much have you slept since I left, honey?" 

He sighed, opening his eyes and sitting upright so that he was leaning against the headboard instead.

"I slept every night, Tony. And shouldn't I be asking you that, Mister 'I'll sleep when I'm dead'?" he retaliated. He was skirting around the question, and he knew that Tony wasn't buying it, but he really wasn't up for playing twenty questions tonight.

Tony raised an eyebrow, mouth downturned in a frown.

"Let me ask you again. How much have you slept since I was gone, Steve? And don't change the subject this time."

He felt himself growing angry as Tony pushed.

"God, can't you just drop it, Tony? Just leave it!" he shouted.

He felt bad when he felt Tony flinch slightly, moving away from him, but Tony was headstrong and stubborn and didn't let him scare him away.

"Leave what, Steve? The fact that you look like you're about to drop dead? You look exhausted. JARVIS, how much has Steve slept while I was away?" Tony asked, looking at him while he waited for a response from the A.I.

"Captain Rogers has slept for a total of three hours while you were away, Sir," came the response from JARVIS and Steve felt shame burn through him.

Tony's eyes grew concerned and his face got more than a little upset at the information that JARVIS gave.

"Shit, Steve. Three hours? I was gone for four days. That's not healthy, baby. You need to sleep."

He kept quiet, turning his head so that it was angled towards the balcony instead of Tony.

"Steve, honey, look at me, hey - there you are," Tony took his hand in his, waiting until he was looking at him. "I love you so, so much. And it hurts me to see you like this. Why didn't you sleep while I was away?"

He opened his mouth, and then hesitated. 

Tony kept still, eyes never leaving his, waiting patiently until he was ready to speak without pushing him.

"I woke up the day you were getting ready to leave and nothing felt right. And everyday while you were away it never felt right, everything just felt off. No matter who I spoke to or who I was with, everything felt different. And I - there's no way to explain it, maybe I'm paranoid or overthinking but I can't shake this feeling. I can't sleep because I dream about things that I have no right dreaming about. Not anymore. I'm happy here, I am. But how do I explain the thoughts that I keep on having?" he asked, taking a hand through his hair in agitation and frustration.

Tony nodded thoughtfully, rubbing soothing circles on his free hand.

"I have those days, too. I wake up and Clint always likes to tease me that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but I know better now that I spoke to a shrink. We all have our bad days. Looks like you had a couple of bad days while I was away. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you through them, darling, but I'm here now and it's okay. You're allowed to have bad days," Tony said.

Tony gave him a tight smile.

"Whenever I have a bad day, I can be triggered into having a panic attack really easily, and I can drop at any time. It's not fun, believe me, but I found ways to cope," Tony explained, and he sounded a little bitter, but seemed as if he had accepted it as the way things would be from now on.

When he stayed silent, Tony carried on.

"It's all part of the recovery process. Depression is a pretty annoying thing to have, not fun, Steve, trust me. Neither is PTSD, my shrink told me I had that too, but if you ask me, it wasn't that hard to self-diagnose after the whole Chitauri attack. From now on, if you have a bad day all you have to do is tell me. For better or for worse, right? I made a promise, and I intend to stick with it. So don't make me seem like a bad husband," Tony joked.

It was a pretty bad joke, as most of Tony's jokes were, but it made him feel slightly better.

And if a few tears fell when he kissed Tony and pulled him closer to his body in thanks, well, that was between them.

It wasn't a good feeling, feeling the way he was, but knowing that Tony was willing to be there with him every step along the way, it made him believe that he could take on the world once more.

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is pretty short, in comparison to other works of mine, but what Steve feels is actually what I feel sometimes. I feel as if I should put a warning that in no way do I have depression, but some days I wake up feeling numb and maybe it's exhaustion or my mental capacity just can't take anymore, but I end up feeling really out of sorts and a bit emotional, depending on the day.
> 
> There's no proper way to explain the way I feel, just that I feel the way that I do and there's nothing that I can do about it. Which, some of you probably picked up in the way that I wrote Steve's experiences in the one-shot. 
> 
> Song lyrics in the title is Gasoline by Halsey. (I love this one so much!)
> 
> The song at the beginning of the one-shot is Runaway Train by Soul Asylum and I have to admit, that no, I haven't heard the song, and I have to remedy that as soon as possible. I actually had to do research on songs that we're about depression because even though I don't have depression, Steve in this one shot, does. And I wanted the song to reflect that. Thus the song choice. Runaway Train is about depression and the lead singer took a while to write the song. The music video for the song changed its perception, as many people thought the song was about runaway children due to the footage in the video of missing children. According to the lead singer, the song is about the feeling of missing something, which I feel reflects a bit of what I feel when I wake up in a "funk" and the way Steve seems to feel when he wakes up. There's something wrong but he can't quite put his finger on it, and when Tony comes home, he can immediately identify it as a symptom of depression. 
> 
> As usual, I thank you all for reading and being patient with me as I continue to write and update my whumptober series. Lately I've been very busy and have no time for writing, much less free time to relax. :/


End file.
